Cream Tea and Jammie Dodgers
by Rhiannon Welsh
Summary: Molly Hooper is companion to the Eleventh Doctor. They land in 21st century London, where they are late for a very important date; tea with Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson. Would be lovely if you chose to review it.
1. Chapter 1

The mad man danced around the console of the TARDIS (a time machine: Time And Relative Dimension In Space) with a broad grin on his strangely child-like face. He pulled a lever and pushed a few buttons, seemingly at random. The time machine took flight suddenly, whirling throughout the vast continuum of time and space. Molly ran into the main console room, her mousy blonde hair brushed and left loose down her back. She was dressed in faded blue jeans, a lacy cream floral top, and a light pink cardigan. She attempted to shove a pair of white converse onto her feet but ended up discarding them on to the glass floor as she hung onto the railings for dear life when the TARDIS flew jerkily. "Doctor! Where are we going?" She asked as the TARDIS abruptly stopped, throwing her to the floor where she put on her shoes and laced them up tightly.  
"Don't you think a better question would be to ask where we are?" The Doctor jumped over the railings, landing beside her with about as much grace as he could muster. "This is no time for lying around! We've got important stuff to do, you know." He offered his hand to her.  
Molly took his hand gratefully and was lifted to her feet. "Stuff?" She asked sceptically. "What does that mean exactly?"  
The Doctor chuckled and poked his companion. "It means that we're going to pay a visit to a very good friend of mine."  
Molly watched the Doctor as he produced an old deerstalker hat from the pockets of his tweed jacket then placed it on her head. "There are your clues, my dear Watson."  
Molly adjusted the deerstalker hat that was now perched at an angle upon her head. "We're going to see Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?"  
"No, of course we're not! We're going to see Sherlock Holmes."  
Molly stared at the Doctor in disbelief. "You can't be serious. Besides, Sherlock Holmes is fictional!"  
"Well try telling him that! I'm sure you could have a nice chat about psychology over a cream tea."  
The Doctor took Molly's hand in his and pulled her towards the door of the TARDIS. "Come on, lazy bones!"

Molly laughed as they ran out of the TARDIS and sprinted through the rainy streets of London. The Doctor tripped once or twice over his own feet, holding on to Molly to keep himself steady.  
"Ugh, look at this dismal weather. It's awful." Molly groaned.  
"Ah! Good ol' England." The Doctor grinned.  
Big Ben chimed, marking the hour to be exactly two o'clock in the afternoon. The Doctor yelled to his companion over the racket all the passers-by were making "...and above all things, we do NOT want to be late!"  
"Late?" Molly frowned, clearly puzzled. "Late for what?"  
"Late for tea, of course!" The Doctor informed her as he waved his sonic screwdriver over the ticket machine, producing two one day travel cards.  
"I do have an umbrella, you know. If you want to use it?" Molly asked timidly.  
"No, no time for that. We're going to be late. Try explaining that to a high-functioning sociopath and an ex-army doctor! This exact date and time has been fixed for months!"  
"An ex-army doctor? Watson? Why, what happens?" Molly questioned, intrigued by their hurry to meet with the great Sherlock Holmes.  
The Doctor stopped still and now appeared to be rambling to himself. "Oh, sorry John. We were just visiting the 1960's but then Molly had to change so now we're-"  
"Doctor! I thought we were in a rush? Where are we going?" Molly pushed her now dripping hair out of her face, shivering from the cold.  
"Molly Hooper, use those little grey cells of yours..Oh, sorry, that's Poirot. Anyway, we're going to Sherlock Holmes. Where do you deduce that he might be?" The Doctor looked at Molly expectantly.  
Molly paused as thunder rumbled above them. "221B Baker Street?"  
"Exactamundo! I said I would never say that again. Oh well. GERONIMO!" The Doctor shouted before grabbing her hand and dragging her along beside him down a series of side roads, the rain dripping from the grey rooftops.


	2. Chapter 2

Twelve minutes later, and a rather bedraggled looking Molly and a beaming Doctor stood outside the dark wooden door of 221B Baker Street. The rain was persistent in its constant downpour, and Molly watched as a waterfall of droplets cascaded swiftly down the glass pane of the window on the second floor. The Doctor grabbed Molly's attention by hastily removing the deerstalker from her head and returning it to his pocket. "On second thoughts, you might not want to wear that – you may give Sherlock the wrong impression." The Doctor rapped sharply on the door before grinning at Molly. "Excited?"  
Molly gave him a nervous smile and nodded. "But what if he deduces about us?"  
The Doctor opened his mouth as if to say something but promptly closed it as the door opened. A lady of around seventy four years of age beamed out at them. "Doctor! How lovely to see you again."  
The Doctor stepped forward over the threshold and hugged the landlady briefly. "Mrs Hudson, it is always an honour to see you."  
The old lady blushed slightly. "Oh, stop it, you! Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"  
The Doctor spun around and looked at Molly, who was still standing outside in the horrendous weather, uncertain as to whether or not she was invited in. "Ah, yes! Miss Hooper, a good friend. Molly, in fact. Molly Hooper. Molly, this is Mrs Hudson. Mrs Hudson, Molly."  
Mrs Hudson enveloped Molly in a warm hug. "It's very nice to meet you, dear. Now, why don't you two go upstairs and say hello to the boys. Would you care for some tea?"  
Molly nodded. "Tea would be perfect, thank you."

Molly and the Doctor walked upstairs into the living room of the flat, where there seemed to be some kind of argument going on.  
"John, you and Mrs Hudson are not allowed to dispose of my experiments without my permission." Sherlock told his flatmate exasperatedly.  
"I didn't know they were experiments!" John replied indignantly. "It was a collection in the ashtray of chemicals, matches, and bits of string. It was dangerous, Sherlock!"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and reached for his violin. He lounged lazily on the sofa, plucking at a few strings before picking up the bow and sending a frenzy of notes to skim across the light, polished wood of the instrument. His dark blue dressing gown was draped off his shoulders, and his checked grey pyjama bottoms were rolled up to three-quarter length. John Watson huffed and pulled the bottom of his beige jumper down. Neither of the occupants of the flat had noticed the two new arrivals.  
Molly sneezed and both Sherlock and John glanced at her in surprise. Sherlock looked at the Doctor, a grin spread across his face. "Doctor!" Sherlock rose to his feet, violin and bow in hands.  
"Sherly!" The Doctor laughed.  
John, meanwhile, was talking to Molly.  
Sherlock watched the two of them talk with some interest, placing the violin and bow carefully against the bookcase. "Ah, everyone saying hello to each other. Wonderful."  
The four sat down (Molly, John, and the Doctor on the settee, and Sherlock in the armchair) as Mrs Hudson entered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits.  
The Doctor's face lit up like a child's at a funfair. "I don't suppose you have any of those jammie dodgers, do you?"


End file.
